1956
(Five Minute Walk)
The subject matter on Soul Junk’s plate --- the glory and righteousness of Jesus Christ, as well as society’s formalized hangups with Him ---is bound to send many potential fans scurrying for the eject button almost as fast as readers will skip the rest of this review upon seeing the word “Jesus”. Their loss, too, since Soul Junk plugs itself as deep and wails as freaky on this, their sixth longplayer, as they ever have before. Head Junker Glen Galaxy (aka Galaxalag, ex-Trumans Water) states their approach thusly on “K.I.N.G.D.O.M.O.G.O.D.”: “I make dust and trust my God will break/any preconceived position that you all might take”.
Musically, both secular and non-secular listeners will be challenged, as the sound of 1956 is far past the post-Trumans/fractured Pavement sound of the group’s early works. They now exist in what is--- to employ the most universally applicable comparison---a minimal, over-caffinated dream-extension of Beck’s genre hybriding. Galaxy and his cohorts place the record’s 15 tracks in settings that reveal an astonishingly informed grasp of modern forms. Art-hop, indie guitar scrape, folk puss, techstep and related jungle forms, even a snatch of Celtic fiddle gets flung out in tunes like “Sarpodyl”, “Eyes, Externally”, “Monkey, Flower & Yarrow” and “Pumpfake”.
Galaxy builds on the remarkably dense lyrics of last year’s sprawling double-set (1955) and becomes even denser this time around, delivering head-spinning word-strings in a hip-hop slang. These are from the opening “Ill-m-i”: “I do windows on schooldays/spill Jim Jones type kool-aid/all these primrose style bouquets/I clip those for doomsday/I got succulent flavor--the uprisen savior”. Even compared to forward-thinking Christian rockers like Jars of Clay, Soul Junk continues to play on an entirely different level.
Those “open” enough intellectually to meet Galaxy’s religious themes on level ground will, with patience, experience a musical vision that is as taut and creative as any current “heavyweight” you can name. Jesus, 1956 is good enough to make to you believe in... something.
Time Out New York, 2000
